


The Watch: Part Two

by bemily (lovewinx)



Series: The Watch [2]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:00:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22827556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovewinx/pseuds/bemily
Summary: When Emily is seven years old, her grandmother gives her a broken watch with a date and time from the future. This story is basically Pitch Perfect 3 (helpful to read Part One first because it's Pitch Perfect 2) but Bemily. Told from Emily's point of view :)
Relationships: Emily Junk/Beca Mitchell
Series: The Watch [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641070
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	1. "Getting Over" Beca Mitchell

After Worlds, Beca and I had tried to stay close. We had tried to keep that feeling that we felt when we were standing in front of each other singing Flashlight solely for one another, declaring our love for the whole world to see. She had even given me an initiation, joking about how the liquid in the chalice was poison even though I drank it anyway, adjusting the vows a bit so they wouldn’t freak me out, and adding a new tradition of christening the house by sliding down the stairs. But in reality, we knew it wasn’t going to work.

Beca went off to rent an apartment in New York with Chloe and Amy, and I stayed in Atlanta to get my psychology degree and train new generations of Bellas. We stayed in touch for a while, constantly FaceTiming and texting and talking about visits that never happened, but eventually our calls went to voicemail, our texts were left unanswered, and we stopped humoring the idea of one of us taking a spontaneous trip to see the other. It just wasn’t realistic and we had to grow out of those fantasies before either one of us got hurt.

Not to say it didn’t hurt. No, the breakup hurt like hell. It was worse than anything I had ever gone through. I even had to lock my watch up in my safe to keep it out of view; I couldn’t bring myself to finally get it fixed. That felt like too much of a betrayal to Beca.

Beca, who had been there for me since day one. Beca, who had given me advice when no one else would. Beca, the only Bella who never looked down on me just because I was younger than they were.

It’s pretty safe to say that I never fully got over the breakup. I only learned how to cope with the pain.

Losing Beca had left scars on my heart that would never fully heal. For the first few months after we officially called it quits, I walked around campus like a ghost - I probably looked like one, too, due to my lack of appetite or sunlight other than walking from class to class.

Stacie visited. She said enough was enough and told me to “get my lazy ass out of bed before she really gave me something to cry about.” It didn’t work, so she ended up just laying with me and holding me while I sobbed into her shoulder.

Two years later, I barely ever thought about Beca. I had stopped asking Stacie how she was doing; I had stopped stalking her on social media to see what she was up to. So I decided to start wearing the watch again, not to be reminded of her, but to have it close once more. It was such a big part of my life before Beca, I was sure I could wear it again after her.

It was hard at first, but eventually I stopped thinking of her every time I saw September 15, 2015; 9:12pm. Well, no, I didn’t; I just stopped looking. I started wearing long sleeves every day so I would never accidentally see the time and date. For me, it was easier than just taking the watch off.

So that’s how I lived for a year. Sweating through the summer - sweating through the winter, too, due to the heaters always being on full blast. But I survived. I picked myself back up off the floor and moved on with my life. I even got to a place where I felt like if I saw Beca again, I would be okay. I wouldn’t crumble into a million pieces or melt like putty in her hands. I would keep my chin up, and I would survive.

It was that type of thinking that jinxed it. I kid you not, the day after I told Stacie about my improvement, the Bellas got a request for a performance at the Brooklyn Aquarium. “It’d be a great opportunity for a Bellas Reunion!” Stacie pointed out the moment that I FaceTimed and told her.

“But Beca will be there,” I groaned as I pulled a pillow onto my face, hoping it would take mercy on me and suffocate me.

“Okay? And? You were just telling me about how you could see her now and not be phased. So just… don’t be phased.”

“I said I could survive, Stacie! Being unphased and surviving are two vastly different things!” I exclaimed before chucking the pillow across the room.

“Wow,” Stacie mouthed, her eyebrows flicking up at my dramatics.

I glared at her before propping myself up on my elbows and saying, “Maybe we’ll just say no. We can say we have the flu or something.”

“You all have the flu?”

“Yes! It’s highly contagious, Stace. Totally possible for ten girls living in the same house to all get it at the same time.”

“Mhmm,” she hummed noncommittally.

“What?”

“I’m just saying, wouldn’t the other nine quarantine the first one the moment she got symptoms? I mean, that’s what we did with Chloe when she decided to teach underprivileged children how to sing and it backfired on her immune system,” Stacie shrugged before starting to file her nails.

“Well maybe we’re not as smart as you,” I grumbled, frowning at the brunette hundreds of miles away.

“That’s for sure.”

I sighed, long and heavy, and Stacie slammed her nail file down to look me in the eye - or, camera, I guess. “Just do the reunion, Em. I’ll be there. All the other Bellas will be, too. Don’t you at least want to see them again?”

I thought about the last time I saw everyone besides Stacie three years ago. “Fine,” I groaned, once again pulling a pillow onto my face and wishing God would smite me. Stacie just gave a victorious “Yay!” before hanging up, completely oblivious to my pain.


	2. Bellas Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mention of self-harm
> 
> i have no excuse for being gone for so long... here are a few chapters to make up for it

As I stood in the Brooklyn Aquarium staring at the group of Bellas I had won Worlds with three years ago - one in particular - my hands started to feel clammy and my body started to tremble. _I can’t do this,_ I thought, shaking my head and starting to back up.

But then I caught Stacie’s eye from across the room and she discreetly nodded for me to come over and I knew that it was too late to back out now. So I wrangled up the rest of the new Bellas and we made our way over there.

“Hey, Bellas!” I called as we approached.

Somehow I ended up right in front of Beca; I avoided her gaze as I smiled at all the other members, but I felt those familiar stormy blue eyes on me the whole time. “Thank you so much for inviting us,” Chloe said, a nervous smile taking place on her face as she stood protectively beside her ex-girlfriend-now-best-friend-and-flatmate.

“Of course,” I gushed, a bit too enthusiastically, trying to get the point across that I wasn’t going to say or do anything to hurt the shorter brunette.

Relaxing a bit, Chloe pressed on to more important matters. “So what do you want us to sing tonight? A little bit of We Run the World, some Bulletproof? You didn’t tell us who the crowd was, but I um, I brought this, just in case.”

She held up a blue Solo cup and Beca immediately smacked it out of her hand and onto the floor, her eyes never leaving my face. I allowed my own eyes to flicker to hers for a second - just one second - before tearing them away again. But the emotions that hit me in that one second… I cleared my throat again before saying, “Oh God… Um, we didn’t invite you guys to sing, we invited you to watch us sing?” It was phrased more as a question than a statement, but it got the point across just as well.

The Bellas’ eyes all widened. Aubrey even said, “Aca-scuse me?”

“I just thought you guys were so busy with your awesome jobs and y-your amazing lives…” I shrugged, letting the sentence finish itself.

They all averted eye contact the moment I said that, but there was one pair of deep blue orbs that left mine that I desperately wanted to return. I allowed myself to glance at Beca’s face, but all I saw were her walls. It had been so long since she’d had her walls up with me that I barely remembered what it felt like, but the realization that they were now back up hit me like a ton of bricks. She looked back up the moment I looked away.

“You know, you’ve got these great jobs?” I continued, that sentence now becoming a question, too.

That spurred the girls into action. “Yeah, we have those.”

“I’m such an idiot, I’m sorry,” I apologized, once again speaking to Chloe rather than the girl beside her. I knew that my words held a deeper meaning - I should have tried harder, I should have made those trips to see her - but I was hoping that no one else did.

“Coming up next, the Barden Bellas,” the announcer boomed over the speakers.

I chanced one more look at Beca before heading off to the stage. She wasn’t looking at me; she was looking down at her hands instead, fiddling with her sleeve.

After the performance, I hurried to meet up with the Bellas where I knew they would be: at the open bar. As I was approaching, I heard that familiar voice I still loved so much saying, “Amy, shut up!”

“It’s okay to be sad, Bec,” Chloe spoke up, her hand rubbing the tiny DJ’s back.

Jealousy flared up in me, but I quickly pushed it back down as I walked up to the group of girls. I had no right to be jealous. She wasn’t mine anymore. If she wanted to go back to Chloe, that was her choice.

“Hey, guys!” I chirped, unable to stop wondering what they were talking about before I walked up. Why was Beca sad? Was it about me? I had felt her eyes on me the entire performance, but every time I looked up at her, she just looked depressed, so there’s a possibility that it could be.

“You guys were so great,” Chloe told me as she plastered a smile onto her face. “And this was a really nice chance for us to get together. Right, ladies?”

There was a chorus of “yeah”s from everyone except for two girls. My eyes flickered to Beca and Aubrey, who were engaged in a hushed conversation on the other side of Chloe. Since when were they such good friends? I frowned as I thought about how much of my ex’s life I had missed since walking out of it, but I soon swallowed that feeling to continue catching up with the other Bellas.

“I was supposed to go to my brother’s wedding,” Flo said right when I tuned back into the conversation. “But this is nice, too.”

“Bellas, a toast,” Chloe suddenly said as she raised her glass. “To the most amazing group of women I have ever known. I would do anything to sing with you guys again. Anything!”

The redhead started crying as she downed her vodka, the rest of the Bellas grimacing as they tipped back their own drinks of choice. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” Aubrey suddenly exclaimed, gaining everyone’s attention. “I’m having a crazy idea.”

“Okay, I’ve mentioned that my dad is in the army and basically killed Osama bin Laden, right?” she asked.

“There’s some new information in that sentence, but okay,” Beca responded.

_God, she still sounds the same,_ I thought as my heart skipped a beat. My thoughts quickly turned to berating, though. _Well of course she sounds the same, Emily! Did you expect her voice to change? Geez._

Aubrey started speaking again, so I hushed my racing mind to focus on what she was saying. “Well, what I mean is, he’s kind of a big deal in the army, and every year the USO puts on this performance to entertain and support the troops, and this year DJ Khaled is hosting! He’s got like a gazillion hit songs. And he’s super famous. I saw him on a tax commercial.” Amy gasped. “What if I could get us an invite?”

“To sing?” Chloe asked.

“No! To run military dark ops,” Aubrey said sarcastically. Lilly looked up excitedly, but her face fell when the blonde continued, “Yes, of course to sing!”

“Is there a competition?” Chloe shot off another question. “There should always be a competition.”

“Oh, um, well, no, but let’s sing together again. And maybe I’ll see my dad! Or maybe I won’t, you know, because he has something really important to do. Or maybe I’ll be the most important thing in his life for once this time. Maybe… Who’s with me?”

“Yeah, I suddenly have a lot of free time, so hell yeah,” Beca shrugged, her voice causing my eyes to snap to her and my heart to race a mile a minute once again.

Cynthia-Rose was next to join in, but her excuse for being able to join the tour led to Stacie’s excuse for why she couldn’t. I already knew she was pregnant, but I had forgotten the rest of the Bellas didn’t. “Okay, well, Stacie’s out,” Beca said, turning her gaze to mine. I forgot how to breathe for a second when our eyes met. “So, I guess Emily, you’re in.”

I missed her calling me Legacy or Em, but I was too confused to dwell on it. “Oh yeah, I’m in, for sure… Was I not always in?”

The Bellas didn’t answer, instead opting to take more sips of their drinks. My eyes left Beca’s when Chloe’s hand landed on my arm as she changed the subject. “Why don’t you take your jacket off? It’s hot,” she said.

“Oh, um, no, i-it’s okay,” I stuttered, refusing to meet Beca’s gaze. Suddenly the table was very interesting.

All of a sudden I felt myself being yanked out of my chair and towards the bathrooms. Once inside, Beca locked the door. My heart was pounding faster than it had in years; I felt like I was eighteen again and back in that recording studio right after collaborating on a song with the only girl I’ve ever loved.

That was, until she started pushing my sleeves up. “What are you doing?” I asked, alarmed.

I watched as Beca visibly relaxed, the tension leaving her shoulders, her slender fingers burning trails of fire onto my skin as she ran them along the insides of my wrists. The unscathed insides of my wrists. “Beca?” I questioned as my mind jumped to conclusions that I hoped to God were wrong.

Her fingers found the watch, clasped around my right wrist, exactly where it always was. “You still wear it,” she breathed.

I watched her as she stared at the watch. I took in all of the little changes. Her hair was longer now. I liked it. Her face seemed wiser, too, but not quite older. It just seemed like she had been through a lot. My heart broke all over again at that thought.

Beca flipped my wrist over, her touch still igniting flames on my skin. “It still doesn’t work,” she smirked, finally moving her eyes to mine. “Are you ever gonna fix it?” Her eyes shone with the memory of that day by the lake.

“No,” I answered, my voice so low that I was surprised she could still hear it.

Beca chuckled, finally releasing my hand. I wanted to take hers, resume the contact, but I didn’t. I just pulled my sleeves back down and admitted, “It’s hard to look at sometimes. So I wear long sleeves.”

Beca just nodded, her expression unreadable. That stupid wall was back up. “What did you think it was?” I prompted, curiosity and anxiety battling inside me.

“Nothing,” the older girl said with a shrug. She kept a good poker face, but for a split second it faltered.

“You’re wearing a jacket, too, you know,” I pointed out, slowly moving my hand closer to hers. “Did you think…?” I couldn’t say it, but she understood.

“We should go,” she said as she turned around.

I reached out and grabbed her hand before she could unlock the door. Then I pushed up her sleeves, just like she had done to me.

Nothing. Just pale, porcelain skin stretched perfectly from her elbows to her wrists. “Are you done now?” Beca snapped. Her voice was agitated.

“Y-Yeah,” I stuttered. I was relieved that I was wrong, but why else would Beca have been acting so weird?

She unlocked the door, then paused before answering my unspoken question. “I was just worried. People do that, you know.”

“I know.”

She opened the door and led me back to the table. We wordlessly went back to our spots. The other Bellas gave us questioning glances, but no one asked any questions, and we didn’t offer any answers.


	3. Rota, Spain

Singing with Beca again was amazing. I had almost forgotten how well our voices complimented each other. Singing with the other Bellas was great, too, but they didn’t compete with Beca.

We did lose the Riff Off again, though. But it wasn’t my fault this time! Oh, and we learned that there actually was a competition. Chloe was happy about that.

Our first performance, in Rota, Spain, is what really took the cake when we’re talking about turns of events. It really labelled us as a joke. We were singing Cheap Thrills, and right when Beca was singing one of her solo lines, right when the crowd was starting to get into it, the National Anthem started blaring through the speakers. We froze, not knowing what to do. Aubrey told us to salute, but that just made the crowd laugh even more.

I could handle that, though. I could handle embarrassment. What kept bothering me until late into the night was what had happened before our failed performance. I was talking to Chloe and Aubrey about how excited I was to perform with them for the first time in over three years when some guy had gone over and started talking to Beca, and there was a lot of eye contact, so obviously I crept closer to eavesdrop.

“Hola,” he greeted while knocking on her vanity.

“Um, hola. Um…” Beca floundered for a response, not knowing any more Spanish than hello.

The guy kept saying greetings in different languages while Beca tried to work out how to say she didn’t speak Spanish, until she figured out that he was just messing with her. “You’re English,” she stated. “Hi.”

“That’s right,” he chuckled. “I saw you do the, um, sound check thing-”

“Yeah, the Riff Off thing,” Beca interjected. “Yeah, I don’t know why we keep challenging people to those. We… We don’t ever actually win.”

“Oh.”

“Do you work for the USO?” Beca asked, changing the subject. I fisted my hands; she isn’t normally one to willingly carry on conversations with strangers unless they interest her.

“Uh, no. I work for DJ Khaled. Sorry, I’m Theo,” “Theo” introduced himself, extending his hand.

“Hi, I’m Beca,” she grinned, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you… So, you are a…?”

“Oh, I’m a music exec at Khaled’s label.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he answered, then he noticed her staring at him. “What?”

“No, I work with music executives and you… They don’t look like you,” she said.

I swallowed the jealousy at those words, but her answer to his next question makes it go away all on its own. “What do I look like?”

“A turtle.”

“That’s incredibly specific,” he stated.

“Well, you literally look just like that,” she shrugged, the Beca I knew and loved shining through.

“No, it’s pretty accurate,” Theo gave in before switching the subject. “You said you worked with music execs?”

“Oh… Yeah, um… No, I’m a…” Beca chuckled, not sure of how to say it. “I’m a music producer, I’m just sort of freelancing right now. Oh, and I sing for fun,” she finished with a slight shrug.

“I’m interested to see the Bellas in action,” Theo told her, motioning towards the stage.

“Yeah…” she trailed off. “Maybe we’ll even open for DJ Khaled, in the end.”

“You don’t think you can open for Khaled?” he questioned.

“Uh, no, I, uh… I didn’t say that,” she stuttered.

“Yeah, you did. You just said it before. You kind of implied it, if anything.”

“Well, I-”

“I could just tell him that you sing for fun, if you’d like,” Theo offered.

At this point, I could tell Beca wasn’t going to like him. He was saying the perfect things to push my ex-girlfriend’s buttons. So I left to rejoin Chloe and Aubrey by the stage, not worrying too much about what Beca and Theo were saying a few paces behind me.

But later that night, as I lay in bed trying to fall asleep, the end of that conversation lingered in my mind. What had been said after I left? Had information been exchanged?

Growling in frustration, I launched myself out of my bed and toward my suitcase. I slipped into my most form-fitting black dress - one with floral designs decorating the top half, but not being too overbearing or excessive - and pulled on some tight black leggings and heels before grabbing my matching clutch and making my way to Aubrey’s room.

I opened the door; no one was in there. I went from door to door finding no one until I got to Fat Amy’s room. I pushed aside the hurt that they gathered without me as I said, “All right, ladies, pick up your tits. We’re going out.”

“What do you mean going out?” Chloe asked.

“What do you mean what do I mean? We just sucked balls in front of DJ Khaled,” I deadpanned.

“Listening…” Fat Amy said.

“He’s staying at that fancy hotel and casino across the street. Okay, I say we all get up, we get dressed, we go over there, and we show him that we are not a joke!”

“Emily, I can’t believe that a half-decent idea came out of your dumb mouth,” Amy said as she stood up.

It felt weird not hearing Beca shout, “Amy!” after that, reprimanding her for insulting me, but her words were actually a back-handed compliment this time, so I straightened up a bit and said, “Thank you.”

“Okay, so let’s get tarted up-”

“Tatted?” Chloe questioned, unable to decipher what Amy was trying to say due to her accent.

“Tarted. She’s a caramel tart, she’s a chocolate tart, you’re the vanilla tart.” She pointed to Beca as she said that last part.

“Thanks, babe,” Beca replied with a wink. My heart jumped. For a second, it was dumb enough to think that she was talking to me.

“Oh, _tarted,”_ Aubrey said.

“If it’s easier, we can just say slutty,” Amy sighed.

“Okay, let’s get slutty,” Beca said, her eyes finding Chloe’s from their position lying next to each other on the bed. I averted my eyes.

“Let’s get slutty,” I heard Chloe reply.

“Okay, great. Let’s do it,” my ex chirped as she jumped off the bed, coming into my line of sight once more.

When she passed me to go to her room to change, the smell of vanilla washed over me. Nostalgia hit me like a fucking freight train, but I choked it down, not willing to let it ruin the night. _Vanilla tart,_ my mind wandered back to Amy’s words. I smiled a sad smile as I sat down in a chair and waited for the rest of the Bellas to get ready.


	4. The Party

I could barely keep my eyes off of Beca in her black v-neck jumpsuit with a golden double belt. God, I missed her so much. I couldn’t stop wondering if she missed me, too. She had at least admitted that she was worried about me back at the reunion, right? That had to mean she still cared.

“Okay, ladies. I think we should split up. Divide and conquer. You ready?” Aubrey proposed once we got inside the hotel.

Everyone nodded. I made a move to follow Beca when everyone went in different directions, but I lost her in the crowd. By the time I found her again, she was walking off with Chloe, on a mission. I frowned and followed Aubrey instead.

The next time I saw Beca was when we had figured out which room was Khaled’s. Beca, Chloe, and Fat Amy were the last ones we needed to find, and we found two out of three hiding behind a bush in the hallway. Chloe’s hands were on Beca’s chest; I looked away, tears of both jealousy and anger racing to the surface. “What are you guys doing?” Aubrey had asked, causing Chloe to take a step back.

“Nothing,” both girls responded a bit too quickly for my liking.

My eyes followed Beca as she stepped in front of Chloe, then walked up to us. “Ain’t that Mr. Eye Contact?” CR asked her, referring to Theo who was at the end of the hall.

“He knows Khaled, right?” I spoke up, forgetting that saying that would reveal I knew more than they thought I did. I ignored it and continued, “We should follow him.”

I had said it to Beca more than anyone else, and after all these years of us not talking, she could still figure that out. “Okay, Legacy,” she said. I grinned at the use of my nickname. “Come on.”

I started to follow her, the rest of the Bellas following me, and she muttered, “Act normal. Casual. Here we go…”

Following Theo ended up taking us right to DJ Khaled’s room. “Great idea,” Beca complimented me. I just beamed and blushed in response, still unable to keep my brain from getting foggy under her attention even three years later.

“We got this,” Aubrey said, talking to herself more than anyone else.

“Hey! Beca!” Theo greeted, standing up from the couch.

I rolled my eyes as he neared her, forcing the glare off of my face. “What are you doing here?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

“Waiting for you,” he answered.

I inhaled deeply, then let the breath out. _Breathe, Em,_ the voice in my head said; the one that sounds exactly like Beca.

“I don’t- uh, that’s weird,” my ex stated, leaning back a bit. I smirked as I watched.

“No, I saw you hiding behind the bushes.”

“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “This is a really popular jumpsuit and hairstyle, so that wasn’t… You know what? I see what’s happened. This is not my friend Lenny’s suite. That’s embarrassing.”

“Oh, no, it’s DJ Khaled’s suite,” Theo replied.

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “We’re throwing a little party for him, if he decides to show. You guys should hang out. Do you want to hang out?”

Everyone said yes, so Turtle Man began our tour. I scowled at his back the whole time. He was mainly talking to Beca anyway; it’s not like he noticed. She kept shooting sarcasm at him left and right, testing him, but he handled it almost as well as I used to.

After showing us the apiary, he pointed at Beca, saying, “Oh, Beca. I’ve got to show you something. You’re gonna love this.”

She hesitated, but ultimately ended up agreeing to go. When Chloe made a move to follow them, though, Theo said, “Just her.”

They disappeared behind a curtain. I forced myself to let loose and get lost in the party after that. There was no use in spending my whole time in DJ Khaled’s suite stalking Beca and her new admirer. So I got some beet juice, the one Flo said was reserved for the kings.

I was chatting with Aubrey when an officer found us. “General Posen and I were wrapping up a clandestine operation and have just come from our classified briefing.”

“Oh my God, so you were just with Aubrey’s dad,” I stated. It was meant to be a question but didn’t really turn out that way.

“He was so excited to see your show,” the officer said. Aubrey beamed, but her face fell when he added, “It’s just too bad he can’t make it.”

“Oh,” she said. “Oh, that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, vowing to make her feel better.

“It’s totally fine.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” I promised as I nodded at her encouragingly.

“He’s a busy man,” she said.

“That’s right.”

“And my dad always said, expect finite disappointment, and remember there’s always more where that came from.”

As she was saying that, she leaned on the candlestick, knocking it over. The curtain went up in flames. The room broke out in a panicked commotion. Somewhere along the way, the apiary even shattered, releasing a swarm of bees into the suite. “Someone open a window!” Chloe shouted while swatting them away.

I rushed over to the closest window and watched CR struggle with it for a few seconds before I shouted, “Stand down!” and swung an instrument through it.

Upon hearing the glass shatter, though, I realized what I had just done. “Oh…” I breathed while I covered my mouth and stared at the gaping hole in the window.

Then, to make matters worse, DJ Khaled entered the room right as the sprinklers went off. “We gotta go!” I shouted.

I watched the Bellas scramble to the door, but I couldn’t find Beca. “Beca!” I called as I spun in circles, my eyes searching every face in the room. Panic gripped my chest, restricting my breath, as I shouted, “Beca!” once more.

Then my eyes fell on the curtains Theo had taken her through earlier. I raced through them, relief washing over me as I saw her petite body sitting by a mixer, doing her thing. “Oh my God, Beca,” I sighed, the relief evident in my voice.

I clutched her shoulder, causing her to jump. “Em?”

My heart leaped at the nickname that I hadn’t heard in so long, just like it had when she called me Legacy earlier, but I didn’t have time to cherish the moment. “Come on,” I said, tugging at her upper arm. “We gotta go.”

That’s when her eyes passed me and saw the explosion from hell that was now DJ Khaled’s party. “What did you guys do?” she asked, already knowing it was us.

“It’s a long story. Come on.”

She finally allowed me to pull her to her feet, and my hand slipped easily into hers as we dodged flailing people and smug competitors while I pulled her to the elevator. Once inside, we collapsed against the back wall. Our hands stayed linked. I didn’t know if she had noticed, but I didn’t want her to break the contact. They still fit just as perfectly together as they did three years ago, like they were pieces of the same puzzle, made for each other. We used to be like that once…

“Where is everyone?” Beca suddenly asked, pulling me out of my reverie.

“They left,” I shrugged.

“You stayed.”

“I had to get you out of there, didn’t I?” I laughed, shrugging again before allowing a comfortable silence to settle over us.

A few moments later, the elevator hit the ground floor, letting us out. As we approached the waiting group of Bellas, Beca’s hand dropped from mine. I was disappointed, but I ultimately understood. We didn’t need questions when nothing was even happening.

“Thank God you two are okay,” Chloe gushed, pulling us into a hug.

“Okay, ladies,” Aubrey spoke up as soon as the hug broke. “Let’s all get a good night’s sleep, and I’ll see you all in the morning, bright and early!”

I could tell she was still upset about her father, but the look in her eyes screamed that she didn’t want to talk about it. So I let it go, instead saying goodnight to the Bellas and heading up to my hotel room to collapse into bed, my skin still tingling from Beca’s hand in mine.


	5. Progress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is really short but... a filler was necessary

Like Aubrey said, we were out and ready to leave bright and early the next morning. I just threw on some clothes - an oversized flannel over a black t-shirt and some jeans with holes in the knees, topped off with my favorite, most worn-out pair of Converse - but Beca couldn’t keep her eyes off of me. I could feel her gaze; I’ve always been able to tell when she’s looking at me versus when someone else is.

Beca herself was wearing a knotted navy blue sweater, black jeans, and lace-up boots. It was a simple yet chic outfit. I liked it. _“Simple yet chic,”_ Beca’s voice echoed in my head. _“I like it.”_

I frowned. That was how Beca had described my outfit the first time we ever hung out one-on-one: simple yet chic. Well, that was the first time we hung out if you don’t include the initiation night party, where we talked about my watch for all of ten minutes before she let me crash on her bed.

My eyes widened, I looked down at my shirt. The oversized flannel was the one I took from Beca. That’s why she kept staring at me.

I shifted in my seat, unsure of what to do. I couldn’t take it off, but could I keep wearing it? It was a very fragile situation.

“Oh, hey!” one of our competitors called as he descended the steps of the hotel, providing a good distraction from my dilemma. “I heard y’all really lit it up last night,” he joked.

“That’s a great joke. That’s really funny,” Beca deadpanned, her voice 100% sarcasm and boredom.

“Like a phoenix rising from the ashes,” Calamity joined in. “Only a really sad version where there’s no phoenix and just ash.”

I tuned out the rest of the conversation, not really caring. Until I heard Beca’s voice again, that is. “Hey, where’d you go last night?” she asked Amy.

“What? Uh, you mean when you were burning down the hotel?”

“Dude, where were you?” Beca repeated her earlier question, her voice rising.

“Okay,” Amy sighed. “I was with my father, all right?”

“Wait.” Beca paused. “Your dad?”

“He’s been trying to track me down for years and last night he found me.”

“Why are you running from him?” Aubrey cut in. “I wish my dad would pay attention to me.”

“Because my dad wasn’t a very nice man,” the Australian answered, keeping her eyes on her best friend. Beca’s gaze could calm you down in an instant when she wanted it to; I knew that from firsthand experience. “So when I was eighteen, I had to run away, which is a real bitch because of the chafing. And now, he’s found me, and I don’t know what to think.”

“I mean, I think that’s amazing,” I told her honestly. I expected a snarky comment about how I’m dumb or stupid or something to be thrown back at me, but when none came, I continued. “And so should you! I mean, i-it’s a crazy thing! He’s finally found you after all these years, and now you can rekindle the relationship, and it could be even stronger than it was, and maybe he was not a very nice guy before, but maybe he is now. I mean-”

“Okay, Emily, you’re so-” Amy started to yell, her voice rising with each word.

But then Beca held her finger up in front of the Australian’s mouth, silencing her words, as she sternly said, “Okay.”

I realized I was rambling, which happens when I’m nervous or excited, but as the blonde lunged at me, Beca pulled her back. “Emily!” she shouted, her eyes finding mine.

I externally jumped back from reflex of Amy diving at me, but internally my heart was melting at Beca standing up for me again. Maybe there was hope for us. Maybe there was hope that we could get back to how we used to be before I screwed everything up.

Shortly before the next USO performance, Beca and I got on speaking terms again. Not that we weren’t before, it was just kind of… awkward. But something about that night and morning shifted something between us.

“Hey, Em,” she greeted as we headed to the stage.

“Hey,” I grinned back, giddy from excitement over both talking to Beca and being about to perform.

“You nervous?” she asked, her blue eyes dancing; she was just teasing me, she already knew the answer.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m excited.”

The older brunette just chuckled and shook her head before saying, “Break a leg,” and heading over to Chloe.

It wasn’t much, but it was progress, and I’d take it. I even felt her eyes on me during that performance. It was when I was doing the vocal riff in I Don’t Like It, I Love It. I was beginning the buildup when I felt shivers down my spine and a heat ignite in my core, so I put an extra sway in my dancing as I belted out the finishing notes. Her eyes left me after that, but when I glanced over, her cheeks were burning red.


	6. A Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> catch me combining multiple chapters because I always write them so short lmao

When we got to the huge, fancy building that was “something special,” I finally saw my opportunity to flirt with Beca: she was alone. Chloe had wandered off talking to Chicago, so I broke away from Flo and Aubrey and made my way over to where Beca was sitting alone sipping some not-free champagne.

“Paris,” I whispered in her ear, leaning over the back of the chair.

She didn’t flinch. I rounded the chair and sat in the one across from her, then caught her eye. “Paris,” she repeated before taking another sip from the champagne flute.

I knew she knew what I was hinting at, but she was making me say it first. I guess I deserved that. “We always wanted to come here,” I said, studying her reaction closely.

Her eyebrow twitched before she resumed her poker face once more; she didn’t think I’d actually reference our relationship. She put down the flute, then leaned forward. “We always wanted to come here,” she repeated once more.

“Are you just going to repeat everything I say?” I whined, but there was an extra level of pout to my lips and my voice was an octave deeper than usual.

Beca raised an eyebrow. She knew me well enough to figure out what I was doing. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. “You broke up with me, Em. Not the other way around,” she finally settled on saying.

“I know,” I sighed. I could see Chloe making her way back over to us in the distance, so I scooted my chair forward, deciding to make this quick. “I’m sorry. I was an idiot, Becs.”

She sighed that frustrated sigh of hers, yet it wasn’t as sharp as usual. She was waiting to hear more. I grinned a little and continued. “You were the best thing to ever happen to me, and I blew it. I left when things got hard, and I shouldn’t have done that. But maybe now would be better timing anyway-”

“I can’t,” she sighed, leaning back and picking up the champagne flute again, lifting it so that it covered her mouth even though she wasn’t drinking it. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“No, Becs, please” I begged. Tears welled up in my eyes. “I’m sorry. I regret leaving.”

“It’s too late,” she went on. “I’m in a relationship already.”

With those five simple words, the wind got knocked out of me. That’s when the tears started falling. Suddenly Beca was at my side, champagne flute back on the table. “No, Em, stop crying,” she shushed, not wanting to draw attention to us.

“I’m too late,” I said. My entire body felt like broken glass. It hurt. So bad. “I messed everything up, Beca.”

“No. No, Em, stop,” she begged. She frantically wiped the tears from my cheeks, her fingers leaving a tingly sensation wherever her skin met mine. I melted into her touch. “I was kidding,” she whispered.

I froze. The tears stopped. “What?”

“I was just messing with you, Legacy,” she smirked once she was sure I had really stopped crying.

I glanced around the room. Luckily, none of the Bellas are looking at us. Or anyone else, for that matter. “I guess we’re even now,” I said.

Beca rose to her feet and went back to her chair, an amused smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

I wipe the tears from my cheeks, dry my eyes. “So you’re not dating anyone?”

“I’m not dating anyone.”

I tapped my foot anxiously, then decided now was as good a time as any. “I still love you, Becs.”

She didn’t even falter; she had known this was coming, probably from how I was bawling just a few minutes earlier. “Would you have still loved me if you didn’t see me, though?” she countered, really making me think. “When you go back to Atlanta and I go back to Manhattan, what’s gonna happen? Because I can’t go through that type of pain again, Em. I just can’t.”

Her walls finally went down, and for the first time this whole trip, I saw how exhausted and just plain sad she was. “I graduate this year,” I said. “I could move to Manhattan, maybe try to get signed at a record label in the city?” She was still hesitating, though, disbelieving. “I won’t leave you again, Beca. I promise.”

I saw it in her eyes before I heard it in her words. It was the lifting of the fog that clouded her irises, it was the raging storm coming to a somewhat peaceful standstill. “Okay,” she whispered, the word simply reminding me of a breath passing through her lips.

“Okay?” I repeated in question.

“Okay,” she smiled, falling easily back into our routine of my needing confirmation and her giving it every time.

“So what are we?” I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Beca thought about it for a moment. Then, “You have a chance.”

“A chance,” I repeat, not needing confirmation this time, afraid that if I asked for it, this would be the first time I didn’t get it.

“You’ve been the only person in four years who's had a chance.”

I was about to ask her why she said four instead of three - we had only been broken up for three - but then it sunk in: she was counting the year that she was with me in Atlanta, too. From the first day she met me, I’ve been the only one with a chance.

Later that day, while we were by the pool, I watched as she bumped into Theo. “God,” she exclaimed, taking a few steps back. “You are so weird.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s not fair, you seem very nice,” she sighed.

“Can I borrow you for a second?” he asked.

I stiffened. I was a few feet away from Beca, but for the first time this whole trip, she turned and looked at me for approval. She had probably picked up on how I reacted around Theo this whole trip so far, and she wanted to see if I was okay with her leaving with him. My heart swelled; I couldn’t say no. So I sent her an innocent smile and nodded my head - just once - then watched as she turned back around, said, “Yeah, okay,” and followed him.

I did hear him ask her if she wanted to hold hands, though, and that made me immediately regret my decision until I heard her easy, “Nope,” shot back with zero hesitation. I smiled. I trusted her. I trusted her, and I had a chance.

“Hey, Chloe,” I called out while Beca was gone.

“Hey, Emily,” she smiled back at me.

“Um, I have a question. About Beca.” Chloe’s face became guarded the moment Beca’s name came up, but I powered through. “So, she said I had a chance.”

Chloe looked shocked. “Oh.”

“Um, yeah,” I grinned. “She said I had a chance, and I need to know what I could do to prove to her that I deserve it.”

“Honey, if she’s giving you the chance, you deserve it,” Chloe sighed. At my hesitation, she continued, “When Beca loves, she loves with her whole heart. But the problem is, when she stops loving, she stops with her whole heart. There’s no little piece left behind.”

“Oh,” I frowned, my hope dissipating.

“You don’t get it, Emily,” the redhead laughed. “She said you had a chance because she hasn’t dated anyone else in three years. She hasn’t even flirted with anyone in three years, and trust me, I’ve tried to get her out there, and she’s had offers! But she turned them down right away, because she still loves you, Em. With her whole heart. It’s always been you.” She paused, debating her next words, then mutters, “Fuck it,” and continues. “Do you want to know why I was so cold to you when you first auditioned for the Bellas?”

“Yes, actually,” I said, intrigued.

“It’s because the moment you bumped into me leaving that watch repair store, I knew you were perfect for my girlfriend: tall, dark, and adorkable.” I giggled slightly at her words. “See? That’s my point! I can’t do that, but Beca practically melts when you do. But I thought, ‘okay, so this girl is my girlfriend’s exact type? So what?’ and would still wave to you in the courtyard and stuff because I never expected you two to meet. But then you came knocking on our door and saying you were a Legacy and I knew that our relationship was over.”

“That’s why you didn’t fight for her,” I said, the revelation hitting me like a ton of bricks.

“Exactly,” she sighed. “I knew from the moment you two met that you would never need anyone else. And I knew because I was there, but neither of you realized it until I started talking.”

I beamed, suddenly much more confident than I was moments earlier. “We’re in Paris, right?” I asked; it was a rhetorical question. “I know what I’m gonna do.”


End file.
